


Flexible Authority

by pssychotropical



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Group Sex, M/M, That's it, Yukhei's a marketing manager, and Mark is his new personal assistant, and they met at a group sex party, slut calling, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-22 19:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20879288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pssychotropical/pseuds/pssychotropical
Summary: Yukhei meets Mark at a group sex party organised by his friend from a strip club, Johnny. After a few days of intensively thinking about the man, it turns out he's Yukhei's new personal assistant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise in advance. The garbage's been written in three days, as I was supposed to write something else.

Group sex is just the type of experience Yukhei likes to indulge himself in every now and then, when the proposition pops into existence. Tired of his office work where he's hunched for hours over the boring daily reports of the company and drowning his sadness with his own body weight in black coffee over the course of every administration meeting, he just can't seem to say no.

It's usually the guys he knows from various clubs that approach him about it.

It can start with Yukhei coming to watch the performance of his favourite stripper, Fridays, eleven pm. He sits at his usual spot: just by the stage where he can prop his arms against it and his chin on his arms. He undoes his corporate tie, hangs his suit jacket over the back of his chair and orders tequila. It's not the most frequented performance and maybe that's why Yukhei likes it so much. There's a sense of intimacy to it, which other shows don't have with the buzz of guys whistling, cheering and throwing money at the stripper. On Fridays, eleven pm, Yukhei's favourite stripper, Coco, always recognises him as he enters and greets him from the stage, singling him out of the small audience. Yukhei's a regular. Sometimes after the show Coco comes up to Yukhei in his shiny black brocade outfit with feathers and asks him how it's going. He says, "You look rather sad, Lucas." Lucas is how Yukhei likes to be called when he's at a strip club or having sex with strangers. His alternative identity that's way more exciting than his normal self.

So he sits at the strip club, sipping on his whisky, sometimes sad, perhaps, sometimes not, and then one of his buddies, all of whom have fake Western names like Lucas, comes over. "We've got someone special," is how the announcement starts. This time it's Johnny. Lucas doesn't remember how they got to know each other.

Johnny sits down on the empty chair beside Lucas, both of them looking at Coco who's sliding down the pole with his long legs wearing a pair of tight thongs and bright high-heels. There's glitter on the stage and there's mirrors too, the type that reflect the stripper's arse, perfect angle. Johnny wraps his arm around Lucas's neck.

"We're organising a smaller group this time. Around five guys. The bottom's pretty new at this."

What Lucas likes most about group sex is the intensity of the act. It's like a whole week of regular fucking squeezed into the span of one hour. And it's so much better than any porn can show it, so much sucking and spurting and moaning and pounding, Lucas's senses can't take it all at once. There's nothing he likes more than being part of something bigger, when it's his turn to shove his dick into the guy's mouth and call him a dirty slut in a way that turns on all the gathered participants equally. It's just so much better then the applause he gets during company conferences.

Snap back, Johnny's voice. "So I thought about you," he continues speaking.

"About me?"

"He wants big guys. Size kink. You seem pretty tall and also, you're Chinese. We're spicing things up."

From the stage, Coco sends a kiss towards Lucas and so Lucas catches it and presses to his cheek, automatically. There's about seven other guys in the club, beside him and Johnny. Lucas has participated in group sex that counted more people than that, but Coco seems to like it this way. It's easier to get closer with your customers.

Lucas takes a look at Johnny, who's smiling at him mischievously. Johnny's the guy who loves choking the bottoms. And keeping them silent, good boy, keep it down. Johnny's best play party must be when the bottom never manages to say out loud a single word, completely muted like an animal.

He gives Lucas the place and time, and Lucas quickly sketches the pros and cons table in his head as Coco keeps dancing. He hasn't had a fuck in two weeks, there's that. His last noticeable sexual experience was jerking off right in front of the security camera in the corridor of a night club that led to the bathrooms. So he says yes. Sign him in. He can be the fifth guy.

Rule number one is, don't immediately jump into the act, talk first. Rule number two is, don't get emotionally involved while talking. It usually starts off like a company party with Lucas dressed up in a suit, pouring wine into his glass and aiming at one of the guys who seems to be aiming back at him. Once the eye-contact is established, they come closer and one of them inevitably asks, "What are you into?"

The point is everyone has sex in the same room because nothing makes you more horny than other people being horny around you. There's always a couple dudes who like watching while jerking off, and Lucas loves having an audience. He goes, "I like degrading my partners."

The guy smiles and pours more wine into Lucas's glass. A few other participants have already started and the sound of skin slapping echoes off the high ceiling. "Do you want to call me a slut?"

Lucas smiles back at him, politely.

Lucas has never met anyone from a play party outside of the play parties. And he's never been attracted to someone to the point that he would remember them afterwards. He likes to think that the moment the condom finds itself in the rubbish bin, it's all over. Lucas turns into Yukhei. The end.

This play party, Lucas recognises the only bottom by just how smaller he is from the rest of the group. Other than that, he wouldn't be able to take a guess. The man's slim, almost skinny, has a long neck with a big Adam's apple coming from underneath his striped shirt, first three buttons undone. He has a fierce look in his eyes and the dim lights of the room cast shadows down his sharp cheekbones. And that's when Lucas realises that the man's really his type.

The first half an hour, it's usually just talking. About insignificant things because nobody wants to get to know anyone on a deeper, more personal level. Lucas never remembers this part, as if it happens through a haze, with the sound muted, twice the normal speed. Somewhere through his conversation, the man, whose fake Western name is Mark, stands up from his seat and starts kissing with Johnny, raking through Johnny's hair with his both hands. That's the second Lucas's body is set on fire.

His first thought is that he didn't expect so much confidence and power out of someone this small and supposedly inexperienced. He sits on Johnny's lap and tugs at the man's hair, and Johnny feels the immediate need to fight back. He catches Mark's wrists and directs the man's hands to his own crotch. Someone suggests that they do it on the table and the owner of the place they're at, a guy in a brown suit, throws the wine glasses to the floor, with one move of his hand, breaking them all into shards. Mark giggles and says something in response but all Lucas can hear is the initial sound, the cheeky giggle he's just made.

Soon after, Mark's naked and he's pushed against the table, which is covered with a long white tablecloth, now stained with red wine. Johnny starts fucking him from behind while holding him by his hair and one of the other guys, whose fake Western name Lucas didn't bother memorising, takes out his junk to direct it to Mark's mouth. The remaining guys keep on sipping on their wine, watching attentively, and turns out, Lucas is one of them.

Mesmerised and frozen to the spot, he's staring at Mark's naked pale body in its uncomfortable pose, hands tied with someone's necktie and cock pressed to the table, so scrawny and small Lucas could lift him off the floor with ease and place him on his cock, his both legs propped on Lucas's shoulders, light as a feather. His mouth is too small to take a hard dick in, so instead he's attempting to lick the guy's shaft as he's being pounded into, the cock hitting him on the face, smearing the precome on his cheeks and chin.

When he lets out a desperate, choked moan, Johnny tells him to shut up and in response, Mark's moaning gains in volume. As soon as Johnny comes, the other guy takes his place, Johnny's hand now holding Mark's chin, digging fingers into his cheeks. He tells Mark just how useless his little mouth is, like his useless little cock. Some other guy spills the wine out of his glass and onto Mark's face, and Mark tells him that this is how he wants them to come on his face. One guy inside him, the rest on his face. And while saying that he still manages to look like the softest creature on planet earth.

Only then, Yukhei realises that the scene also includes him, that he's one of the participants.

Unstuck in time and space, he doesn't know how many minutes have passed. He's stone hard in his trousers and the moment he takes his cock out, he reaches his climax almost immediately, last moment directing his come somewhere into Mark's hair, dark hair, black like a raven. Everything is blurry and only as the play party ends, everyone cleaning themselves while talking, he realises that he doesn't remember a huge chunk of it.

All he does remember is Mark's beautiful, angelic face. Sharp as if you could cut your finger against it, make yourself bleed, but also so soft it's imprinted under Yukhei's eyelids and he cannot stop thinking about it.

The same night, Mark is in his dream, licking his cock without the possibility of fitting it into his small mouth, his big, boyish eyes glistening as he's looking up at Yukhei.

He comes into his underwear the moment his alarm clock starts ringing to urge him to get ready to be back at work in an hour.

He does consider asking Johnny to hook them up again, the same group and the same bottom, but every time he tries to form it into a casual proposition, doing a rehearsal in his head, it sounds pathetic even to his own ears so he drops the idea. Instead, he keeps jerking off, trying to keep the image fresh in his head.

He doesn't know a single thing about the guy, except that he's into group sex, just like Yukhei, which doesn't signal anything good. He doesn't know his real name and barely remembers what his face looked like when it wasn't twisted into a slutty moan, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together, nose crinkling. He hasn't spoken to him, not a single word, and he's sure he hasn't left much of an impression on him, completely passive the whole night up until the moment he was already coming. His performance was so bad he didn't even manage to come on the guy's tongue, his small mouth open as wide as it could.

There was something about the man that rendered Yukhei speechless and motionless, and it sucks that he might never know the reason.

Back at work, in his private office of the marketing manager, crumpling wrongly printed documents into paper balls, he decides that he needs to stop constantly replaying all that he remembers of the night. Especially now that even his co-worker has noticed his weird behaviour.

"What's up, man?" Kunhang's voice sounds almost amused. He's the advertising manager and he's popped into Yukhei's office uninvited, as in his habit. The higher the position the less actual work you have to do. That's why Yukhei started crumpling paper and throwing it to the rubbish bin from a distance. That and also because he's just remembered about Mark again, and how eagerly he licked the come of four guys off his face before swallowing it.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his voice coming out grumpy.

Kunhang sits on the edge of Yukhei's desk and even as he's there, it still feels too spacious and empty. It could fit in a table for eight and two big wardrobes and there still would be some room left. "I mean, why are you so distracted?" He pauses, then corrects himself, "Granted, you're always distracted, but today..." He leans towards Yukhei. "It's a new sort of distracted."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Did your ex wife contact you?" The expression on Yukhei's face, that of complete surprise, must be enough for an answer. "Okay, what else have we got?" Kunhang picks up one of the pieces of paper from Yukhei's desk and pretends to read off of it. "Did the guy you cheated on your wife with contact you?"

"Kunhang. Fuck off."

Contrary to the intended effect, Kunhang giggles. "I'm so fucking sorry, man, but the list of people in your life is so damn short, we've already reached the end. I'm out of ideas."

Yukhei frowns, both of his thick and heavy eyebrows sliding down towards his eyes, which, he guesses, makes him look rather stupid. The problem is, Kunhang is right. Kunhang is one of the symptoms of the problem. How pathetic is this that Yukhei's best friend is also his co-worker. And that they've both become friends simply because they didn't have anyone else to talk to during their boring lunch breaks.

When Yukhei takes a better look at the man, Kunhang starts crumpling a piece of paper in his hand before aiming at the rubbish bin. He's not even close to scoring a hit. Needs more practice.

"Listen," Kunhang goes, "whoever that is that you're so deeply pondering upon--"

"Why do you think it's a who?"

"--you should give them a chance. It's rare that you actually think about people." After flashing Yukhei an openly mean but also weirdly encouraging smile, he swiftly jumps off the desk, fixes his suit and walks towards the door. "What coffee do you want? The meeting starts in five minutes."

Just when Yukhei starts losing hope and the jerking off ritual becomes more and more difficult to perform, with the image growing blurry in his head, the man reappears in his life. In an unexpected way.

Yukhei doesn't know his real name so of course he didn't recognise it on the documents. But he recognises the shape of his body. From behind. Dressed in a dark blue suit, black hair slicked back. Same neck, same shoulders, same thin as fuck waist. And when he turns around, the new assistant of the marketing manager, about to be introduced to Yukhei by some other guy whose position nor name Yukhei doesn't remember, time stops. Because Kunhang was right. Yukhei rarely cares about the people around him. But in this particular moment, there's nothing he cares about more than Mark.

He's smiling at first but the moment his eyes land on Yukhei, the smile evaporates. And it makes something in Yukhei's chest drop. He has to remind himself to breathe because in the time it takes for the two men to approach him, he's slowly began to suffocate.

Face stone cold, looking tired all of a sudden, with wrinkles appearing right under his eyes revealing his actual age to be more than a slutty eighteen year old, he outstretches his hand towards Lucas and says, "Lee Minhyung."

"He's your new assistant," the guy whose name Yukhei doesn't give a fuck about explains. "You've approved his application two weeks ago, Mr Wong," he adds, correctly assuming that Yukhei doesn't have a single memory of that ever happening.

He clears his throat and suddenly remembers about Mark's outstretched hand. Minhyung's hand. Lee Minhyung.

The handshake is an awkward and sweaty failure, which doesn't escape even the what's-his-face's attention. He quickly excuses himself, saying he's already showed the new employee around and has someplace else to be, and scrams.

Something big and gluey is right in the middle of Lucas's throat preventing him from speaking as soon as they're left alone, causing an uncomfortable silence to follow the guy's departure. And Minhyung doesn't speak up either, because he hasn't been asked to, because he's Lucas's new fucking assistant.

"This is awkward," Yukhei blurts out at last, before forcing out a chuckle, to which Minhyung raises an eyebrow.

"What is?"

"You know, the thing we--"

Now it's Minhyung's turn to be flustered. His neck turning noticeably red, he takes a glance to the left and right as he immediately cuts through Lucas's words. "We're at work so please display some professionalism, Mr Wong." He's holding a folder to his chest, which Yukhei realises must contain his documents of a marketing manager, his meetings, calls, all the shit he doesn't remember about. The other hand, which he used to shake Yukhei's hand, is in the pocket of his suit trousers, giving him an almost disrespectful pose. "Show me the office?"

Minhyung has a desk in the little entrance space leading to Yukhei's office, and through the glass wall that separates the two rooms, Yukhei stares at the back of the man's head for much longer than he should. He stares at the man's soft neck and his hands moving over his desk, precise and efficient. When Minhyung picks up the phone, Yukhei knows what he's saying to the receiver, even though the glass wall muffles all the sound. He tells his interlocutor that he's really sorry but right now Mr Wong, the manager, is busy and can't talk.

The truth is, it's rare for Yukhei to be busy. Even more now that he has an assistant to prepare his reports, organise his documents, reply to the requests and arrange the appointments. And in between doing all that, to bring him coffee with double sugar sachet on the saucer. All Yukhei does, as a result, is sit on his arse, with his chin on his hand, counting the moles on Minhyung's neck while trying to bring back the image of Mark's naked body.

Coming into the office after knocking, Minhyung doesn't greet Yukhei. Feeling Minhyung's eyes on himself, Yukhei makes a show of reading a document which he has no idea what it's about. Minhyung puts the coffee cup on Yukhei's left and the freshly printed reports on Yukhei's right, and the precision and authority with which he does so make Yukhei feel more like a disorganised schoolkid in need of being helped by a special teacher, rather than someone in a position of power.

Yukhei lets out a mumble which is supposed to be "thanks", and Minhyung leaves. The whole process takes up to a minute and as Minhyung's leaving, Yukhei openly stares at his butt in tight suit trousers.

The more time passes, the more what happened at the play party feels like a distant dream.

It's been two weeks now, since Minhyung's arrival, and he hasn't even once let it be known that he remembers how Yukhei spurted out of his cock on his hair and forehead. He's nothing but professional. And it's only making Yukhei feel more stupid and more desperate.

They stay late hours.

One evening, Minhyung comes to his office carrying Yukhei's usual eight pm cup of coffee. If Yukhei ever wonders why he can't sleep at nights, that's the reason. And also Mark. Because he keeps haunting Yukhei's thoughts, especially in the late hours of night, as he's lying on top of his double king size bed that could easily accommodate a foursome. Sometimes he prefers to sleep on the sofa because at least then, it doesn't feel so lonely.

There's something distinctive about Minhyung's moves, this time around. They are sharper, almost alarming. The coffee spills onto the saucer as he puts it down, and Yukhei wonders if he should make a bossy comment about it and reclaim his superiority. But Minhyung turns out to be quicker, as usual.

"If you keep staring at my arse during every official meeting, you'll make everyone think that that's how I got the job." Yukhei's ears immediately start to burn with embarrassment. He's been caught. "This is the worst coincidence that's ever happened to me." Saying the words, Minhyung perches on the edge of Yukhei's desk, usually occupied by Kunhang's buttocks, and shoves his both hands into the pockets of those tight suit trousers. Perhaps it's because the time's so late and there's barely anyone else in the neighbouring offices to come catch them talk that he allows himself to do so.

Yukhei stops short of saying that it's the best coincidence for him, because, in actuality, he isn't so sure of that. It feels like his ex wife all over again. Always pissed off and telling him what to do, which, truth be told, is what he both hated the most about her and liked the most too. Then one affair and she was puff, gone. Ever since that day all Yukhei had were the strip clubs, group sex and his own hand.

It's no wonder he so fucking much wants for his assistant to suck his cock right now.

"I didn't know I made it so obvious," he replies at last, and the compliant tone in which he says so catches Minhyung's attention.

From the serious, rough features of Minhyung's face emerges Mark's jaunty half-smile, just for a second, then disappears. Hands still in the pockets, he leans in Yukhei's direction. "Listen. I really need this job."

"I think you've made that clear enough."

"And I don't want this..." Leaving the pocket, Minhyung's baby hand makes a vague motion in the space that separates his silhouette from Yukhei's, and Yukhei wonders if what he's trying to signal, in some roundabout way, is that he's attracted to Yukhei just as much as Yukhei's to him. "...to get me sacked."

"I'm not going to sack you," he hears himself respond automatically. In his head, he adds "baby" but manages not to blurt it out. All of a sudden, he's completely overcome with arousal because oh my god, he's being scolded by his own assistant.

"Yeah. I know how that goes."

"You've got some experience in the subject?" The playfulness in Yukhei's voice, together with how breathless and throaty it comes out, and how scornful too, surprises Minhyung.

Suddenly alert, he straightens his back and frowns. "I don't sleep with my superiors on a regular basis."

"That's not what I meant--"

"You can call me a slut when we're in private, not in the office where I'm your assistant."

The whirl of different emotions Yukhei's just experienced makes him feel dizzy, yet he still manages to catch this one most important piece of information. "Is there going to be a private meeting then?"

"If I want it and if you're invited to it." Mark's voice is sharp, just like his gaze, as he slips down from the desk, about to leave the office. "I'm going home now. You stay there and bring yourself back to normal."


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe the truth is, what's best about group sex is that Yukhei feels less afraid of making a mistake. Even if he does something unsexy, which sure happens every now and then, it's insignificant in the bigger picture. Even if one partner doesn't like him being naked and close by, he can always choose someone else. His mistake is always drowned out in the overall atmosphere of throat-fucking and face-slapping, bodies fluttering so much you can't recognise at the first glance which limb belongs to who. During play parties, Lucas is not alone. He doesn't have all the responsibility weighing on him and pressing him down, like it happens at the company conferences.

Sometimes Yukhei thinks about himself this way, almost introspectively, and he regrets it immediately after. It usually happens on Fridays, as he's watching Coco shake his butt and then do a split, earning a round of loud applause from the three fat businessmen occupying a leather sofa on the other side of the stage. Then, Johnny materialises himself by Lucas's side and brings him close, wrapping arm around shoulders.

Johnny is Lucas's friend the same way Kunhang is his best friend. They happen to be in the same place at the same time, talking about the same things. Lucas has even mentioned his divorce to him. Most likely when he was drinking his sadness away and then puking in Johnny's fifth bathroom on the third floor.

"I got good news for you, buddy," Johnny starts, squashing Lucas with his strong arm. He orders a glass of tequila and flashes a flirty smile at the waiter whom he's already fucked before. Lucas knows that. "We're organising a party for six, three bottoms, three tops. You've been requested."

Yukhei's heart drops. "Requested by who?"

Having stopped squashing Lucas, Johnny proceeds to bring the money out of his wallet to throw it at Coco. They receive a special close-up dance, Coco's pubic hair contrasting with the snow white lingerie he's wearing, his skin glowing with rainbow glitter. "One little twink who won't take your cock down his throat, I'm sorry."

So it's actually him. The surge of elation makes Yukhei forget to breathe for a good few moments and he hopes Johnny doesn't take notice.

His eyes on Coco's arse, Johnny goes, "So? What you say?"

And he says yes.

After the performance, when Johnny has already exited, leaving Lucas with a piece of paper, date and address written on it, Coco comes up and takes Johnny's seat. Lucas orders him a drink, like he always does. "Your boyfriend?" Coco asks, meaning Johnny.

Lucas lets out a feigned chuckle. "Having sex and being boyfriends, that's two separate things."

Coco chuckles back. "And which one are you looking for?"

The play party is at Johnny's place this time around.

Lucas recognises the house almost immediately because that's where his first group sex session ever took place, the one where he was asked by the bottom to piss on him in the bathtub, together with a few other guys, which proposition he politely passed on. Not really his thing, but thanks a lot.

Walking down the corridor of full-wall mirrors on either side of it, he fixes his hair for the last time, having already spent more time on stylising it with wax and spray than he's ever spent writing his end of the year speech for the company dinner. He knows that the moment bodies collide and the air grows hot, it will all go to waste. Nobody cares about hair, or makeup, or how they smell, when they're already drooling out of pleasure. Lucas, to put it simply, feels the need to boost his confidence, every now and then. Especially now, before meeting Mark.

Right at the entrance, he receives a glass of champagne, together with a bright smile of a proud host on Johnny's face. They go to the main room where the glass walls have no curtains, which means that if someone was to walk into the garden and took a good look at the house, they would have a perfect view on balls and buttcheeks clapping. Another one of Johnny's kinks that Lucas has learnt over the course of their, let's call it, friendship.

Mark comes slightly late.

He has a silken shirt on, black with white dots on it, and his eyes are visibly made up, which he never does for work. The light bulbs glisten off of the black strands of his hair and Lucas so damn much wants to tuck them behind Mark's ears, gingerly, before cupping Mark's chin with one rough move.

The conversations over the alcohol, where everyone gets to know each other a bit, unless you're Lucas or Johnny and you already seem to know everyone, they make it appear to be a normal meeting where nothing of interest happens. Glass by his lower lip and skinny legs crossed at the ankle, the role Mark assumes is that of a completely obedient twink. He listens to Johnny talk about wine with his eyes shining attentively, and that's why, the moment Johnny stands up to bring more alcohol, Lucas quickly takes his seat.

"So you actually are interested in me?" he asks, his face close to Mark's and his voice lowered in an almost conspicuous way.

Before saying anything, Mark allows himself to take a good look at Lucas's face. He does so openly and appraisingly, in a way he wouldn't at the office where Lucas happens to be his boss. A smile tugs one corner of his thin lips. "I've seen your equipment last time around. Why wouldn't I be interested?"

It's both appreciative and demeaning, the way he speaks about Lucas strictly in terms of his physicality, but either way, it sends a rush of blood down to Lucas's crotch. He wants to tell Mark that he's sure it'll split him in half when he pushes it to the hilt, provided that Mark will actually be able to take in it, but then decides against it. He doesn't want to seem this horny. "So you're into group sex...?"

He makes a pause, during which they both realise what he was about to say. Mark sighs, the smirk gone from his lips.

"Mark. Repeat after me. Mark."

And that's when Lucas knows that he won't be able to say out loud Mark's real name, his full name, Lee Minhyung, like it's a slur, reminding him who they both are, outside of this house, while aggressively thrusting in. "Sorry about that," he says, sounding rather nervous, all of a sudden.

"And you're Lucas. If you already forgot."

Lucas clears his throat. He's about to respond, but then he doesn't say anything. Somehow conversations with Mark never go the way he wants them to.

Mark takes a sip on his champagne before going, "I've heard what you're into."

"You have?"

The sound of a moan that suddenly comes from behind Lucas's back startles him, and he realises he's already forgotten that they aren't alone, that there are other people around them, also about to have sex, so mesmerised by the depth of Mark's eyes that his whole vision became just Mark's eyes and his thick eyelashes. And the cute little dimple in the middle of his chin.

As he was staring down the dimple, the party has begun without him noticing.

Expecting for their conversation to last a bit longer, so that maybe he'll be able to ask a few more questions, the words coming out of Mark's mouth surprise him yet again.

"I can be your dirty slut." Someone moans behind Lucas's back, this time louder. "You just have to call me that."

And because Lucas doesn't react immediately, because he's sitting frozen to the spot, his mind unable to switch so quickly between his cold and unapproachable assistant Minhyung to this man right beside him, the smoking hot twink asking to be called humiliating names, Mark decides that it's his time to take the lead. In half a second, he straddles Lucas and presses their lips together, immediately prying Lucas's mouth open. He tastes like champagne and bubblegum mouthwash, and the speed with which he unzips Lucas's trousers, bringing out his stiff dick with his one hand, is genuinely impressive.

When their lips part with a wet pop, both of them running short of breath, Mark goes, "My type's big guys with big cocks." And his voice has a new timbre to it, it's breathless and needy, filthy and daring, and Lucas missed hearing it so much.

"That really makes you sound like a slut."

This one specific word, coming out of Lucas's mouth, makes Mark shiver. "Go on."

"Go on what?"

"Keep talking, dumbarse."

Lucas is now taking deep breaths through his mouth as he stares at Mark's neck, his Adam's apple moving. There's more moaning coming from the left, and there's Johnny standing by the table, opening another bottle of champagne and spilling it on the face of some guy unbuttoning his shirt nearby. Mark's eyes are clouded and distant, his lips parted, still shining with Lucas's saliva, and Lucas goes, "I keep thinking about how we met. How you made all those guys come on your face. And then you swallowed it like a good slut."

Mark nods his head, his eyes now shut close.

"I can't believe you can work for six hours straight without begging someone to fuck you. Anyone." His fingers dig into the fabric of Mark's shirt, tight around his thin waist. "I can't believe I still haven't fucked you against my desk like the slut you are. And that you don't sit under my desk with my soft cock in your mouth the whole six hours as I'm picking up the phone calls myself, waiting for me to fuck you before I let you go home."

Mark forces another kiss onto Lucas's lips, moaning right into his mouth before grinding himself against Lucas's lap.

And then everything speeds up.

Lucas forgets all the questions he wanted to ask the man, which he didn't have a chance of asking in the official setting of their company.

Soon, they're both naked, just like everybody else is, three piles of bodies separated by small distances, and Mark's kneeling on the sofa, waiting as Lucas puts the condom on and asking him to be faster. From behind the glass walls, Lucas can see the moon hanging from the sky, and then he can see Johnny spitting onto a bottom's face, keeping him quiet with one hand the way he always does. When Lucas finally positions his cock in front of Mark's entrance, putting only the tip in, it's Mark who pushes it all the way inside, letting out a voiceless cry. Lucas doesn't even have to move, Mark's such a good slut he can fuck himself on Lucas's cock, gripping onto the sofa and staring straight ahead, towards the other four men. Which Lucas doesn't like.

He tugs at Minhyung's hair and brings his face closer, tiling his head just like he's always wanted to do it, their eyes meeting. Minhyung winces at the uncomfortable angle but then moans, pain mixed with pleasure, and Yukhei, looking him in the face, into his eyes, into Minhyung's big, black eyes that seem to tell you everything, can't refrain from calling him his name for once.

"Minhyung, you're such a slut for me."

And that's when Minhyung comes, mouth open but no sound.

Back at work, the very next morning, Kunhang walks into Yukhei's office with two plastic cups of coffee.

"I guess you don't need me anymore," he goes, jokingly, as he registers the hot coffee ready on Lucas's desk, two sugar sachets on the saucer, still steaming. "I've been replaced. It hurts but I shall survive."

As usual, he jumps onto Yukhei's desk, his two buttocks quick to occupy their usual spot in the upper right corner, so close that it almost makes the coffee stir in its cup. There is no chance the guy would take the free chair in front of the desk like a normal human being.

Yukhei goes, "His coffee and your coffee. There's no comparison."

Kunhang pretends to pout, then picks up one of the sugar sachets to pour it into his flavourless machine coffee. "I know where else there's no comparison."

Yukhei doesn't get it at first, but then it hits him. "What are you getting at?" he asks, and even though it doesn't mean anything it's enough for Kunhang to nod his head in agreement. They're both thinking about the same thing.

He places the empty sachet on Yukhei's desk, the remaining sugar scattering on all the reports brought by Minhyung which, obviously, Yukhei hasn't yet looked into, instead thinking of how he fucked him last night and in how many other positions he still wants to fuck him, wants to give him pleasure, make him cry and then come.

Kunhang's words cut through his thoughts, "I would have guessed that you chose him strictly because of that face, but then I know you didn't look at the application forms yourself. Let's not kid ourselves. That's too much effort for you."

Yukhei chuckles, part of him amused, part offended by the idea that he would choose his assistant only on the basis of his looks. One of the things he's been proud of those last three years was just how skilfully he was able to separate his work life from Lucas's sex life. Until Minhyung happened, that is. And fucked it all up, making Yukhei think of fucking him in his office every single working hour. "You know me so well," he admits at last.

Kunhang theatrically bows to thank for the appreciating words. "So are you two--?"

"Sleeping together? Of course not." Yukhei's response comes way too fast to sound natural. Kunhang turns his head towards the glass wall and immediately, Yukhei slaps him on his thigh, making him spill his coffee all over his brown suit.

"Wong. Fuck."

"Can you stop staring? He'll guess that we're talking about him."

"He's your fucking assistant. Why can't we gossip about him?" Kunhang frowns, stirring the sugar into his coffee with a blue pen of his. "You know I wouldn't tell anybody."

"We're not screwing. Is that clear?"

Kunhang's almost about to turn his head towards Minhyun once again, as if to verify the statement, but then stops himself midway through the motion. Instead, he sends Yukhei a cold stare. "Maybe you should be? You're so fucking tense, man. You need to find a way to relax because you're getting even on my nerves." He pauses. "Also, you're paying my laundry bill. It's my favourite suit."

They make the play parties a regular thing between them, but it's always Mark who decides on the date and who they are joined by. Sometimes, when they stay late in the office, Minhyung comes over to Yukhei's desk and leaning against it to place the eight pm cup of coffee, he whispers that Lucas should go talk to Johnny. Like Lucas is a third person that they both know, some sort of superhero Yukhei becomes after leaving work. He should go talk to Johnny because Mark wants to fuck with Lucas.

Every time it goes slightly different, depending on the group dynamics and Mark's ideas for the night. There are times when Yukhei remains a passive observer, observing Mark being fucked with his mouth open and eyes fluttering towards Lucas. Other times they do it the way Yukhei likes it best: lifting Mark off the floor so he has to wrap his legs around Yukhei's waist and arms around Yukhei's neck, getting as close as physically possible, fully depending on Yukhei, nothing else to hold onto.

And yet no matter how much sex they have, it always leaves Yukhei wanting more.

Every morning at work, as Minhyung walks in with Yukhei's dose of caffeine, milk and two sachets of sugar, Yukhei's fingers itch to catch hold of Minhyung's hand, caress it while pressing a soft good morning kiss on the man's freshly shaved face.

They never talk much during the play parties because Minhyung skilfully dodges all of Yukhei's questions. Any time he insists on having a chit-chat, Minhyung's lips silence him with a kiss, and the more Yukhei becomes aware of the fact that sex doesn't satisfy him anymore, the more frustrating the situation gets.

Until one evening when Minhyung walks into his office, perhaps to tell Lucas to talk to Johnny, or perhaps not to say anything, just drop the coffee and a few reports and leave, cold as he sometimes chooses to be. As he's organising the documents bent over Yukhei's desk, Yukhei stands up, his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. He clears his throat.

"Can we talk?" he goes.

Minhyung's in a good mood, as it turns out. He lifts his flirty boyish eyes, big as two coins, and smiles at Yukhei in a way that makes him want to come on his face, right on his eyelashes. "Do you want to talk to me or to Mark?"

Arms still crossed, Yukhei makes a vague motion with his one hand. "It doesn't matter."

"And I thought that it does."

Yukhei's next question comes out unexpected, one that he's been asking inside his head a multitude of times, all the words squashed together and spitted out at once. "Why don't we ever meet alone?"

"Listen. We don't talk about sex at work."

Yukhei can't stop his desperate follow-up. "I don't have your phone number to talk to you outside of work."

Minhyung gives him a sharp look, his hands finally dropping the pile of documents he's been flipping through on the desk. There's some alertness rising, visible in the way his body tenses and how his voice changes. "I don't trust you enough to meet alone, if that's what you're asking for."

"We work together. And we've been meeting for weeks now."

Minhyung seems to ignore his words, the same way he ignores what Yukhei tells him as his superior. This stubborn little shit, acting like he's so unapproachable but he's already let Yukhei fuck him every possible way.

Minhyung's voice comes out professional, like he's informing Yukhei about an upcoming business meeting, reproaching him for having forgotten. "As a general rule, I prefer sex in groups."

"What if we don't have sex then?"

And Minhyung's face expresses just the level of confusion Yukhei must be feeling, realising what has just come out of his mouth. "What do you mean?" He sounds genuinely surprised, which also makes him less combative, like he's just forgotten how to block all of Yukhei's pleads, and Yukhei feels that this is his moment to speak and he can't fuck it up.

"God," he starts, before running fingers through his hair, words stuck in his throat as he's trying to push them out without making it all sound dumb or creepy, or both. "I just mean that maybe we could meet at your place and finally talk?"

"About what?"

"About you?"

Minhyung blinks his eyes. And because he doesn't say anything and Yukhei doesn't say anything either, and a thick, uncomfortable silence drops onto them, filling in the whole room and making it seem like there isn't enough oxygen to breathe, Minhyung redirects his gaze away from Yukhei's face.

And he notices the document on the edge of Yukhei's desk, which he hasn't paid attention to before.

"Is this my application form?" he asks, cutting through the silence like a knife. "What do you need it for?"

From all the possible answers, Yukhei chooses the worst one, which is telling the truth. "I wanted to learn more about you?"

The words make Minhyung's face go even paler than he normally is, making him the palest man Yukhei has ever seen, almost a ghost in his black, ironed suit. Suddenly conscious of what this may all look like, in a sudden act of desperation, Yukhei makes a step forward and reaches for Minhyung's wrist just for his hand to be slapped away.

"Hands off me." Minhyung's voice sounds the sharpest and most decisive Yukhei has ever heard it, and it makes a cold wave run through Yukhei's whole body. "Don't try coming to my flat," Minhyung says, slowly, word for word, so that Yukhei understands him perfectly clear, and Yukhei wants to reply that this is not what it's all about, but his mouth won't open. He's paralysed. "This is getting out of hand. I knew it would."

Storming out of the office and leaving Yukhei with all the reports in different states of disarray, he shuts the door with a bang.

The next day, Kunhang finds Yukhei in the company canteen, sitting all by himself, hunched over one of the empty tables in the corner. He doesn't raise his eyes when approached.

"Are you avoiding me?" Kunhang asks, skipping the greeting part. He turns one chair around and sits on it with his legs spread, propping his elbows on the chair's back. "Or maybe you're avoiding... your assistant?"

Yukhei immediately releases an annoyed snigger. "Quit it."

"You've said it yourself. The canteen's for losers." Shrugging, Kunhang picks up Yukhei's plastic cup with machine coffee, as opposed to the usual personalised coffee prepared by Mark, and takes a sip without asking for permission. "You gonna spill it out or you rather have it digest you from the inside?"

Yukhei sighs, his initial anger now gone, his ego seemingly falling into pieces, down onto the table. Kunhang passes the cup back into Yukhei's hand. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's exactly your problem. Sometimes you have to talk to your fellow human beings." Leaning in towards Yukhei, he points a finger at him. "For example about yourself." He pauses. "Does it have to do with your assistant whom you're totally not screwing?"

The expression washing through Yukhei's face is enough for an answer. "How did you know?" he asks in the voice of someone being bullied and asking for mercy.

"You weren't exactly discreet about it, if you ask me. Staring at his arse every two seconds." After taking a sip, Yukhei passes the cup back to Kunhang. "And the moment you stopped staring, he was staring back at you."

"Was he?"

"Yeah. Like a lot." Kunhang giggles at the surprise painted on Yukhei's face. "So what happened? Why aren't you in the office having your dick sucked?" Before Yukhei even opens his mouth, Kunhang adds, "Also, if you were fucking on your desk, that's disgusting. Next time we're meeting at my office."

He tries to pass the cup back to Yukhei, but it's ignored. Yukhei rubs his face with his both hands, a wince distorting his features. "I fucked it up."

"How exactly? Would you mind elaborating?"

First, Yukhei takes a good look around, as if he was expecting his assistant to appear out nowhere and join the conversation, his voice rude and demanding. Yukhei's ears become red with embarrassment and Kunhang finds it amusing. "We misunderstood each other. I wanted to ask him on a date and get to know him better--"

"And he said 'no, Mr Wong'?"

Once again, Yukhei covers his face with both hands. Kunhang finishes drinking his coffee. "He basically insinuated that I was some obsessed freak for wanting to get closer to him." Then, he promptly adds, "It was just a proposition. I didn't force myself onto him."

Kunhang opens his mouth, ready to console him, but Yukhei continues speaking.

"Okay, fine. It's my fault. Maybe I had a chance but I fucked it up. I haven't been on a date ever since the damn divorce. I don't even remember how it works."

"Yukhei," Kunhang chimes in, "it's been three years."

"That's my fucking point."

What follows is an awkward silence and even over the sound of cutlery clinking and other workers talking, Kunhang can hear Yukhei's shallow breathing. "It's hard to have a relationship when you work together," Kunhang starts again. "You really should have chosen an easier target."

"Thanks a lot, Mr Psychologist. What am I supposed to do about it? I can't sack him or anything."

Kunhang sighs.

They're sitting with one plastic cup of coffee between them, separated from everyone else in the canteen by approximately three rows of empty tables. And Yukhei looks like he's about to cry. Kunhang doesn't have a choice but to assume a gentler pose, in an attempt to avoid a scene. "Okay, listen, you still work together. You'll have plenty of occasions to talk it through."

Yukhei immediately shakes his head no, so vigorously and stubbornly that a strand escapes his hair, otherwise perfectly immobile, stiffened with wax and spray, for a good measure. "I don't want to make him more uncomfortable than he already feels," he admits.

Yukhei becomes convinced that this is how the story ends.

That it ends with him, alone, still in his office suit, one glass of tequila in his left hand, on a Friday evening spent with Coco, who's touching himself on the stage in a skimpy cheerleader outfit, and the same three fat businessmen on the same sofa, somewhere in Yukhei's peripheral vision. The worst thing that only dawns on him now, as he's already started drinking, is that not only he won't be able to meet Mark at an orgy, he's also expecting the man to resign. In the end, Yukhei is neither of the two things he wishes to be: not a mind-blowing lover nor a good marketing manager. He's just a sad, divorced guy who tried to hit on someone totally out of his league.

The three fat businessmen cheer as Coco runs his hand down his chest, towards his crotch, while spinning around the pole. That's the place where Yukhei feels the most comfortable at, where he's neither Lucas nor Yukhei, he's just that random creep who drinks tequila and whom Coco pets on the head, every now and then, after his performance.

But then someone comes into the room, which rarely happens during Coco's limited audience performances.

Yukhei doesn't lift his eyes at first. He's leaning with his chin on his arms, arms on the stage, glitter sticking to the black sleeves of his shirt. Only after a longer while, out of boredom, he redirects his gaze. And he recognises the legs. Instead of a well-ironed suit trousers, today they're wearing tight blue jeans, and there's just no way would Yukhei mistake their owner.

Minhyung's standing motionless, scanning the room a bit awkwardly, the look Yukhei has rarely seen him have. Minhyung, or Mark, it didn't matter at this point, wasn't someone to get flustered and nervous, to be lost and searching for someone.

And then their eyes meet. For a flickering moment.

Taking Johnny's usual seat at Yukhei's table, Minhyung doesn't look at Yukhei, at least not immediately, instead watching Coco who's now stripping off of the upper piece of his cheerleader costume. In his jeans and a plain white t-shirt, Minhyung looks much more casual and it feels as if Yukhei has never seen the real him before.

"This time, it's not a coincidence," Minhyung says and underneath the layer of confident amusement, there's also self-consciousness. Yukhei watches Minhyung's face, the little wrinkles and blemishes now emphasised by the dim light hanging over their seats. "I asked Johnny where I could find you."

Hearing Johnny's name, Yukhei looks away. "I thought that you were having a play party tonight. Eight guys. I'm sure they miss you."

"I heard that you wouldn't come. So I didn't go either." Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices how Minhyung diverts his eyes from the stage to Yukhei. "You know, guys usually don't skip the opportunity to fuck me."

Irritation prickles Yukhei's skin, and it suddenly feels like together with Minhyung's arrival, it's gotten so hot in the club it's barely possible to breathe. "Yeah? So you've come here just to tell me how many guys want to fuck you?"

Minhyung chuckles and, unlike all the other chuckles Yukhei has heard him make, this time it's ill-concealed nervousness. "I've talked to Kunhang."

"Great. And what wisdom did he reveal to you?"

Coco makes another split, this time in a way that his cock almost slips out of his skimpy underwear which matches the cheerleader skirt, blue and yellow. The businessmen love it. There's a round of energetic applause, and Yukhei feels a layer of sweat forming on his face as Minhyung leans a bit closer.

No sexily provocative comment follows. Neither does Minhyung mock him in his usual cold way. He says, "He's told me that you wanted to ask me on a date. Instead of just having sex." And his voice sounds sincere and somehow impressed.

"First of all, don't ever listen to Kunhang..."

"I thought you were being an orgy creep. Who was also my boss. I freaked out."

Yukhei clears his throat. "I didn't sound exactly like someone who isn't a creep, so that's my bad."

Dancing, Coco notices Minhyung's figure seated by Yukhei's side and so he sends him an air kiss. Minhyung doesn't react.

"Do you come here often?"

"Often enough to deserve the creep title."

Minhyung lets out a laugh, which is still pretty tense and uncomfortable, but also sweet and genuine. Yukhei doesn't comprehend how that works together. "It's just... I don't know anything about you, Yukhei. Except that you're a shitty marketing manager. And that you're into the same things I'm into, which makes both of us pretty nasty guys." Yukhei doesn't respond, his eyes blindly staring ahead, at Coco. "And you don't know anything about me either."

"That's what dates are for."

"I mean, let's be real now." Minhyung places one hand on Yukhei's arm, to which gesture Yukhei reacts as if it was a steaming hot piece of metal. He stirs away and finally looks Minhyung full in the face, taking his both arms off of the stage and straightening his back. "We met under pretty shitty conditions."

"It's you who came to my company, not the other way around."

Again, Minhyung chuckles, half amused, half sad. And Yukhei doesn't understand why it makes his throat clench. "You know how many guys I've fucked with. There's a reason you could call me a slut."

"But you don't know how many guys I have fucked with," he retorts, putting the emphasis on "I", like he's actively trying to annoy Minhyung, win the little fight that they're having, win at least once. "It means being sexually active, in your case. And lonely, in my case."

The smile stays on Minhyung's lips. "Do you still want to ask me out?"

Yukhei makes a noise deep in his throat, like he can't believe that this is even a question. For a moment he looks away, feeling shy, and then back into Minhyung's eyes, which are big, shiny and awaiting his response without rushing him. Minhyung's hair dishevelled, the casual t-shirt on his chest and an unzipped hoodie on top, he looks like someone who certainly shouldn't be here right now. And once again, it feels like just a dream, everything that happened before. And Yukhei so damn much wants to caress Minhyung's cheek.

"Only if you're planning to say yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was my attempt at writing a happy ending. As a general rule, I suck at concluding things. This whole story came out of nowhere, as a smut practice, which is another thing I suck at. It's self-indulgent, fast and, I hope, to some extent entertaining.


End file.
